


Tango

by Souliebird



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Assault, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is nothing in this city that I do not know.”</p><p>One small alteration of a set universe can cause drastically different outcomes. Jason Todd surviving the Joker’s murder attempt leads Timothy Drake down a different path, away from Batman, but not totally away from Robin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tango

Jason landed on the roof of Gotham's most exclusive night club, wondering if the crunch of the gravel under him was audible over the bass from the building below. His silent question was answered as Catwoman turned to grin at him, pushing her goggles up to rest on her forehead.

“Oh, I like the new costume. I missed you showing some skin. That red body suit covered everything up. But will the little booty shorts ever come out of the closet?” The woman purred, taking a few steps towards him. 

Jason shrugged, smirking back at her. “Only if you ask nicely, Cat. You know how to do that, don't know?” 

Selina chuckled, throwing her back a little as she did. “Maybe some other night. Tonight, sadly, is all business.” Her smile faded into something more serious. “I have some information about the case you are working on. The one about the kids.” 

Jason felt his lips turn to a frown as he clenched his hands into tight fists. Three children had turned up dead in alleys in different areas around Gotham, all baring the same brand burned into their ankles. The markings had been similar, but not the same, as a known child trafficking operation out of Eastern Europe. The case was beyond infuriating in so many ways, but mostly because every lead had turned to a dead end. No one seemed to know anything. 

“What is it?”

“I don't know, yet.” Selina shrugged and Jason tightened his fists more, his gloves blocking his nails from biting into his skin. 

“What do you mean 'You don't know, yet?'” Selina shrugged again.

“I haven't been given the information, yet. I'm meeting the informant tonight.”

“You made me come half way across town for this? This is such bullshit, Cat, I don't have time for t-”

“Robin, wait a moment and you can talk to my informant. The meeting is here. Now.” Jason pursed his lips, but stayed put. 

“Is this person trustworthy?” 

“Absolutely not, but he's never given me bad information before.” Selina pulled her goggles back down over her eyes, once again making herself Catwoman in Jason's eyes. He sighed and decided why the hell not. This was his case and he wanted to know all the players in it. Bruce didn't need him right this moment, anyways. If he did, he'd be barking in Jason's ear. 

They didn't have to wait long. As the song under their feet changed, the door to the roof of the club opened and a figure walked out of it. Jason felt his throat tighten when they came out of the shadows and into the light. The man had to be a few years younger than Jason; Jason couldn't even tell if he was of legal age or not. Not only was he handsome, but he was pretty; with icy blue eyes and pale skin that contrasted greatly with his black hair. The expensive fitted suit matched the atmosphere but Jason doubted the man, the teenager, before them was old enough to even be allowed to look at the club . Sharp eyes looked Jason over from head to toe, looking bored rather than surprised at seeing Robin in front of him, which quickly annoyed Jason. The man-teenager sighed before turning his gaze to Catwoman.

“If you had told me we were having company, I would have brought drinks.”

“This is your informant? A kid? Are you even old enough to drink? To be in this club?” Jason asked, slipping into his Robin voice. 

The man shrugged and did not even look at Jason to respond to him. “I'm sleeping with the owner.” That sent a shiver up Jason's spine; the wrong kind, like he couldn't tell if what the kid had said was true or not. “I told you I don't deal with Bats.” There was slight anger in the almost bored tone the man was using.

“And you told me you found something about the trafficking, kitten. I know you wanted me to tell him, so I am just cutting out the middle man. Which is me, in this case. So let's all play nice. For the children.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If this was any other case.” 

“You keep telling yourself that. I know you have a heart of gold in that black hole you call a soul.”

“All this banter is cute,” Jason snapped, getting impatient. “But how about this information you supposedly have.” The sharp eyed turned back to Jason and it felt like they were piercing into his own; like Jason wasn't even wearing a domino mask. 

“I don't supposedly have anything. I have it.” The teenager in the far too expensive suit fiddled with an equally far too expensive watch and a SD card popped out from the side. The teenager took it between two fingers and held it out to Robin. Jason glared for a moment before stepping forward to take the chip, putting it into the safety of his utility belt. “That should be enough to bring this to an end. There is a limit to what I allow in my city. They have crossed the line.” 

Jason rolled his eyes behind his domino. “Your city?”

The man slid up to Jason until their chests were almost touching. Jason tensed, ready to throw a punch if need be. The man-teenager had moved way too quickly and too smoothly for Jason's liking.“That is correct. My city. You are still allowed to operate because as much as I loathe to admit it, Gotham needs you. You, your mentor, and the ex-Robin have escalated things to a point that removing you from the scene would cause the city to crumble into chaos.”

“And you think you can take us out, kid?” Jason couldn't help but laugh. The teen smirked and stepped back, turning on his heel to sashay his way back to the door.

“I deal in information, Robin. And there is nothing in this city that I do not know. Nothing.” The door closed and Jason turned to glare at Catwoman, who was doing nothing to hide her expanding grin.

“I knew you two would get along.”

“He's an arrogant prick.” 

Catwoman laughed and started walking towards the ledge of the building to make her get away. “He's dangerous, Robin. He already doesn't like you and I wouldn't want to get on his bad side. I know for a fact that that kitty has claws.”

Jason pulled out his grappling gun and went to stand beside the woman on the ledge. “He's a kid.”

“You of all people should know children can be dangerous.” Jason rolled his eyes and aimed his hook for the roof of the building across the street. 

“Who is he, anyways?” 

“No idea, he contacted me first. He lets me call him 'Timothy'.” And with that, she dove off the roof, to the alley below. Jason gave a snort of laughter and went sailing over the street.

Of course the pretentious teen would have a stuffy name like Timothy.

~*~

It took Jason weeks to find Timothy again. 

The information that had been on the SD card had been more than enough to end the trafficking case. The card had contained GPS locations of the whereabouts of six other children with horrible brands on their ankles, who had been kept as slaves to upper middle class families. It also had concrete finical records linking the families to the traffickers and enough for Batman and Robin to track the bastards who had sold the children to their hideout and shut them down hard. Bruce hadn't questioned how Jason suddenly had found a solid lead after weeks of nothing. He was grateful the man was preoccupied with other matters; ones that didn't include Jason. 

Jason wanted to know how the hell the kid had gotten all of that information when Jason couldn't even find out the names of the children who had died, though. He did not like being one upped by some random kid.

He spotted Timothy by chance, walking out of the same high end club where they had first met, long after it had closed. The teen had his suit jacket thrown over one shoulder and his shirt was only half buttoned up, revealing a pale, but toned, chest. Jason crouched on a rooftop across the street as he watched Timothy walk towards the parking lot of the club. He didn't stumble or sway and there was nothing besides his attire to suggest he had been partying all night. 

Timothy was walking towards a sleek black motorcycle when he stopped and called out. “Come out already, I do not need this tonight. I'm already behind schedule.” Jason tensed. There was no chance the kid could see him; the angle wasn't right and Jason was in the shadows. There was absolutely no way Timothy could know Jason was there. 

A transient stumbled out of the shadows towards Timothy, waving a hunting knife at the teen. The obviously drunk man growled something Jason couldn't hear and lunged at Timothy. Jason launched himself down to the parking lot, but by the time he landed, the man was laying face first in the gravel and Timothy was dusting off his sleeve of any grim. 

Timothy turned and gave Jason a smile that reminded him too much of Selina when she saw something she wanted. “Can I help you, Robin?”

“Are you okay?” Timothy rolled his icy eyes and kicked the homeless man in the ribs softly.

“Were you watching over me? How sweet. You should have made it known earlier. I think I have to have this shirt dry cleaned now.” Timothy turned and started walking towards the bike again. “I'll ask again, can I help you?”

Jason refused to chase after him, crossing his arms over his chest instead. “How did you get the information?” 

Timothy looked over his shoulder, looking genuinely confused at the question. “Which information? You really have to be more specific. I deal with a lot of information.” 

Jason narrowed his eyes, feeling his domino crinkle with the movement. “The child trafficking ring.” Timothy 'ohed' and began to pull on his jacket. 

“Like I told you before, my not-so-little bird, there is nothing in this city that I do not know.” Jason repeated his question, quickly becoming agitated with the this kid's arrogance. Timothy laughed. “By keeping my eyes and ears open. You'd be surprised how easy it is to do what I do.” He climbed onto the bike and started the engine. “But don't except my services again. That was a one time favor to Selina. I don't deal with Bats.” He revved the bike, then sped off before Jason could respond. 

Jason turned to watch the bike's taillight fade into the distance, barely keeping his mouth from hanging open. 

The kid was aware of who Catwoman was. What the hell else did he know?

~*~

“Oh, kitten,” Selina gasped out and Jason wanted to jump down from his perch to see what was wrong, but he had worked too hard to shadow Selina to get caught now. “Who did this to you? Point me to them, I'll skin them alive.”

Timothy laughed. “What makes you think I haven't already done that? I am fine. Make up will hide it; it is a rare complication of the job.” Selina cooed and Timothy's voice turned harsh. “Stop touching it. It is a bruise, it will fade. The offending party is taken care of. I have the information you wanted.”

“You don't have to do that, kitten. You make more than enough money-”

“Do not start with that, Selina. Every time we meet, you do it and it is getting dull. I am tired and my jaw aches and I want nothing more than to go home and sleep, so please just pay me so I can give you the damned thumb drive.” 

“Timothy, you are too young to be this-”

“Drop it. I like you, Selina, and I am asking you as a friend to drop it.” Timothy sounded tired to Jason's ears and he once again had the urge to see what had happened to the kid that had made Selina so concerned. The woman very rarely showed that side of herself.

The woman conceded with a sigh and there was a shuffling of papers, then two steps of echoing steps, going in opposite directions. Jason moved quickly and silently to follow the lighter steps. 

Timothy lead him to the same sleek black bike as the last time Jason had seen him. Jason caught sight of a purpling bruise on Timothy's cheek before it was covered by a helmet. 

Jason used his Robin training to be more than prepared to follow Timothy. It was harder than Jason had imagined it would be; it was like the teen knew he was being tailed and took every evasive maneuver. Jason could barely keep up and he was a mix of impressed and highly annoyed by it. It was an hour of sharp turns and circles before Timothy parked his bike in front of a modest apartment building. Jason watched from the shadows as the teen removed his helmet and shook out his hair. 

Timothy had a split lip and the beginnings of a nasty black eye. Jason's stomach tightened. The kid deserved a good punch but the words that had been used to describe how it had been acquired rang in Jason's ears; 'complication of the job'. There weren't many jobs that could use that phrase, and based on his and Selina's conversation, it narrowed the list considerably. 

As Timothy slinked up the stairs into the building, Jason went around the front to look at the buzzers by the main entrance. Listed beside apartment 3B was a 'Timothy Drake'. Jason took note of the address of the complex, then disappeared back into the night to finish his patrol, hoping Bruce hadn't been keeping a track on his whereabouts again. 

~*~

Jason had expected the name to be an alias. He stared up at the screen above him, feeling the need to vomit as he read more and more about Timothy Jackson Drake. 

Jason had been right in his first assessment; the teenager was barely eighteen. He was too young for everything that had happened to him. His parents, the infamously absent from their own fundraisers Jack and Janet Drake, had been the owners of Drake Industries, before they had been brutally murdered by some Haitian psycho by the name of Obeah Man as part of a ransom demand. A quick search in the Cave's database revealed that Commissioner Gordon had requested Batman's help with the case, but Batman had never responded. 

Bruce had been too caught up with helping Jason recover from almost being murdered by the Joker to take on anything, let alone something out of the country. It explained Timothy's dislike of Batman and his allies. He probably believed if the Bat had intervened, his parents would still be alive.

Jason kept reading, feeling the guilt knot in his stomach.

With his parents dead and no other family, Timothy had been put into the foster system. At the age of thirteen, he had been too old for anyone to consider adopting him for anything other than his inheritance; which happened a total of three times. There was a suspiciously empty police report at the end of the final home, accompanied by an even more suspiciously lacking hospital record. Three days after a month long stay at Gotham General, Timothy Drake became an emancipated minor at the age of sixteen. He got his GED a short time later and was currently listed as enrolled at Gotham University. Tax records showed the sizable inheritance his parents had left him as his only source of income, but Jason knew there were certain things one didn't tell the IRS. 

Jason got his way into the records and registration of Gotham University to find Timothy's classes, then pushed himself away from the Cave's console. If he took a fast shower, he could get there in time to find the kid's last class of the day and see how he acted in the daylight.

~*~

Jason leaned against the wall outside one of the giant lecture halls of the University. At least a dozen students lingered around the door, eager to get the best seats to the next lecture. No one looked at Jason twice when he checked his watch for the umpteenth time. Timothy's class was running past the time it had been meant to end. Finally, there was the scrap of chairs and the shuffle of movement behind the door, and two beats later, people of all ages were pouring out of the classroom. 

Timothy was one of the last to leave the hall, talking with a blonde girl who seemed vaguely familiar to Jason. And limping. Timothy was limping, it was slight, just an awkwardness of his gait, but Jason could see it clear as day. It made Jason's stomach drop. Had whoever had given Timothy the black eye, that had been perfectly covered up, also caused injury to his leg? Was it a common occurrence for him to be hurt like this? 

Timothy looked up and icy blue eyes locked with Jason's green. The younger man, the teenager still, Jason reminded himself, touched his friend's shoulder, then walked to Jason, his limp disappearing.

“I see you opened your eyes, Robin. I was wondering if you would be able to find me. Our little cat and mouse game last night was fun.”

“You're hurt.”

Timothy shrugged and motioned for Jason to follow him with a nod of his head. They made their way outside and towards the parking lot. “I'll live. Don't you have better things to be doing than checking up on me, not-so-little bird? I heard a rumor Penguin was planning something for tonight and I'm almost positive I dropped some sort of hint to the GCPD about a shipment coming in for Harvey. Though half the time they are too corrupt to act, and the other half they simply ignore my warnings.” Timothy sighed and shook his head, like he was disappointed. 

“You were limping. If you're hurt, you shouldn't be putting pressure on it. It'll make it worse.” 

Timothy shrugged. “I was, and now I'm not. It's no concern of yours.” 

“Did your pimp do that to you?” That caused Timothy to stop walking. Jason turned to stare him down and Timothy began to smile, that same almost dangerous smile he had shown Jason in their second meeting. 

“Seeing as I am my own pimp, no, I didn't give myself the limp. Are you trying to embarrass me, Robin? I fully embrace what I am; a whore. I sleep with men for money, a lot of money. And sometimes my clients get a little too rough with me, but I do not need a pretty bird to come to my rescue.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at Timothy, not liking how detached this kid was from what he did at night.

“I thought you dealt in information.” Timothy threw his head back and laughed, once again reminding Jason of Selina.

“Oh, I do. The two are not mutually exclusive. I could do one without the other, but I enjoy both. And as you heard and as I have said before, I do not need rescuing. Especially by the likes of you. Now excuse me, I have an essay to write.” Before Timothy could begin to walk away, Jason gripped his wrist, and pulled him close to Jason's chest. Timothy started hissing as Jason began to open his mouth to speak. “Let go of me, now, Jason Peter Todd, or so help me I will ruin you.”

Jason's eyes widened and his grip went slack enough for Timothy to yank his arm away. “I know who you are, I know who he is. I know who all of you are, every single one of your breed that has stepped into my city. This is your one warning. Leave me be and I will extend the same courtesy. Let us go back to an arrangement you did not even know existed. Provoke me, come after me, or talk to me again, and I will share this knowledge.” Timothy stepped away from Jason, eyes narrowed. “There is nothing in this city I do not know. Do not forget it.” Tim stalked off towards the parking lot, his limp returning and more prominent than before. 

Jason's heart pounded in his chest, trying to process what had happened. The kid knew who he was. The kid knew who B was. How long had he know? Selina hadn't told him, even though they were seemingly close. She respected Bruce too much to divulge that secret. Did she know that he knew? Is this what she had meant when she had told him Timothy was dangerous? 

Jason didn't know what to do and that scared the fuck out of him. Bruce needed to know that Timothy existed and what he was capable of. 

But Bruce would act, Jason knew it. That would count as provoking the teenager, and that would lead to... Jason shook his head. 

Jason stood in the middle of the side walk, feeling people push past him, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next. 

~*~

Jason tried to forget about Timothy Drake. 

He had debated telling Bruce what he had learned, the arguments going back and forth in his head until he finally cracked and consulted Selina. She had patted his cheeks with her sharp claws and shrugged.

“What the Bat doesn't know won't hurt him. But if there are two things Timothy is good for it is information and not going back on his word. If he said he won't cause trouble for you unless you cause trouble for him, then he won't.”

Jason had scowled, but had accepted her advice. He told Bruce nothing and life went on. 

But now that Jason knew to look for it, he could see it. He could see Timothy's influence in Gotham. Anonymous calls to the GCPD about robberies in progress before silent alarms could be activated, or tips that lead to busts that were a little too specific. Then there was the pimp for underage girls surrendering himself when no one knew his ring even existed because of 'him'. Batman got the credit for it, but Jason was sure Bruce didn't even what had gone down. He was also positive it had been Timothy's doing that a shipping container that had held a barrel of fear-toxin had exploded before it had a chance to be used, because no one else had mentioned it beyond wondering who had done it.

Jason wondered if the kid had a set up like Barbara's, and if the two had ever crossed paths in digital space. If he wasn't trying to forget the kid, Jason would ask her.

Jason had gone almost a week without thinking about Timothy when Catwoman jumped down onto the gargoyle he was sitting on. “On a solo patrol, again?” Jason shrugged and put his cigarette out on the cold stone under him. 

“B has a cold. He can't stop sneezing, even doped up with everything he can get his hands on.” 

The woman beside him chuckled and crouched herself beside Jason. “I'll have to remember to bring some chicken soup by for him.”

Jason hummed. “It'd be your funeral.” 

They sat for a minute, watching and listening to the city below them, before Catwoman reached out and waved a folded index card in Jason's face. “What is that?”

“Information.” Jason glared at the cat burglar out of the corner of his eye. She sighed and shrugged. “He said the police are, and I quote 'refusing to see what is right in front of their eyes when Gordon isn't there.' I think he actually misses the man.” Jason snatched the index card out from in front of him and crumbled it in his fingers.

“It's not like he's gone. He's just in the hospital for a few days. It's nothing serious.” Gordon and some other officers had been almost caught in a blast and were currently recovering from burns. Jason had never seen Gotham General so heavily guarded in his life, thanks to the Commissioner's daughter. 

Catwoman waved her now empty hand and stood back up. “Whatever. He asked, which he never does, for me to bring that to you, specifically. Something about being able to use your eyes.”

“I thought he didn't work with Bats.” But Jason, despite mentally telling himself to not give into this, opened the index card and read the small neat writing inside. It was an address, for a building down by the docks, followed by the word 'Crane'. 

“I don't know, kitten. He seemed pissed off by whatever this was. If he is contacting you directly, it must be something big.” 

Jason stuffed the index card into his belt and stood up, crossing his arms as he did. “He didn't contact me directly, he sent you. And I'm not some puppet to direct and do his bidding. He threatened me. He threatened B. Now he thinks I'll jump just because he says so? He's some whore with an over inflated ego and good detective skills, I don't have to listen to him.” 

Catwoman pushed her goggles up and Jason was surprised to see Selina glaring at him. “The information he gave you before was good, wasn't it?”

“If you are suggesting I owe hi-” Selina cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“I'm not suggesting anything. You know his information is good. Whatever he knows is happening isn't being dealt with by the cops, and it is your job to protect the city. So, go protect the city. If it helps, pretend I gave you the tip instead.” She stepped backwards off of the gargoyle as she pulled her goggles back down and disappeared from Jason's view. 

Jason growled to himself and turned to head towards the docks. 

~*~

It did not happen often, but it occurred too much for Jason's liking. Catwoman would slink out of the shadows when he just happened to be alone, which was becoming a more and more common occurrence, a folded index card in her hand. He growled at her one rainy evening, asking why she played errand girl so much for Timothy. She had thrown her head back and laughed, saying it was easier to pay for her own information this way. 

The cards always held the same type information; an address and a name. Jason tried to not think about why he would follow the directions each time. He convinced himself it was because what Timothy supplied was always helping the city. There had only been a handful of cards, but each one had shut down a Rogue's plan before they could even get started. 

Jason hated having to play it off as pure luck to Bruce, but there was no way he could let the man know he was receiving tips from Timothy. It would lead down a bad path; not only would Bruce be beyond furious with him, but there would be confrontation between his mentor and the teen and Jason knew what would happen then. 

So Jason lied and created reasons for having stumbled upon a shipping container full of machine guns meant for Black Mask or catching the Riddler in the progress of setting up a bomb.

It was for Gotham's best interest.

~*~

Jason was going to kick the shit out of Dick the next time he saw him. It was as simple as that. Jason and high society functions did not mix, but Bruce required some sort of progeny tonight for reasons Jason could not comprehend. Dick had fled the city before Jason had even caught wind of what was happening and Damian was not even considered an option. Cassandra had offered to attend in Jason's place, bless her perfect soul, but there had been the small detail of her being in Hong Kong. It had taken Alfred ordering Jason into his suit, because Jason could not deny Alfred, but he had followed Bruce to the Gala. He was there and that was the most Bruce would be getting out of him.

People had been approaching Bruce all night for a mix of business and small talk, so Jason did not even look up from his phone when two more shadows appeared in front of him. He was too busy texting his so called brother, promising revenge. 

“Ah! I thought I'd never get the chance to talk to you tonight, Bruce. It's good to see you again.” An older woman's voice crooned and Jason did his best to not flinch from its shrillness. 

“It is good to see you, as well, Professor. I heard your conference went well.” Jason tried to not roll his eyes. Bruce trying to be sincere in his small talk was often cringe worthy. His voice was too high and airy for Jason to take him seriously. 

“Those bastards don't pay me enough to do those. But that is beside the point. This is the lad I was telling you about last time, the one who solved Fox's equation; Timothy Drake.” 

Jason was thankful he was standing behind Bruce because his head snapped up at the name. Sure enough, Timothy was standing there, dressed as well as everyone else at the event, and leaning slightly on a cane. Jason felt his chest clench; he hadn't seen Timothy in months. Had he sustained another leg injury or was it the same one as before? 

To his credit, Timothy didn't so much as glance at Jason, though Jason guessed that Timothy had seen Jason leaning against a wall long before he had approached. The teenager kept his sharp eyes on Bruce, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” His voice was as fake as Bruce's. 

“The pleasure is mine. The Professor speaks highly of you.” Bruce held out his hand for Timothy to shake, and the teenager gripped Bruce's hand firmly, then practically yanked his hand away after the exchange, like Bruce had burned him. Guilt ran through Jason as he remembered their not-past. “She said when she and Lucius concocted this plan to test her new students by giving them a seemingly unsolvable puzzle, she never expected anyone to figure it out. How long did it take you?” 

“A week, sir.” Bruce gave a hum of approval while the old woman laughed, stating Timothy was being far too modest. 

“I've already introduced him to Lucius. They talked about theories that even went over my head. Speaking of which, I really do need to go speak with him again. Will you escort me, Bruce, I fear I've dragged Timothy all over the floor tonight. I should let him be free for a while to enjoy himself before I set him loose on the Dean.” The Professor's eyes twinkled as she took Bruce's arm and practically dragged him off into the crowd before he could agree. 

“I think she might be meta-human.” Timothy said somewhat conversationally, moving, limping, to stand beside Jason against the wall. “A woman her age should not have that much strength. She was not joking when she said she was dragging me around all night.”

“Not used to playing the puppet?” Jason growled out. Timothy gave Jason that dangerous smile, before casting his eyes back out to watch the other attendee's mingle.

“I got you alone, didn't I?” 

“Why are you even here? Don't you have information or your body to be selling?” Timothy chuckled and it sent a shiver through Jason. It was as viperous as his smile.

“I can multitask. Selina is out of town for the next week, so I came to give you this.” Jason watched Timothy produce a folded index card from his breast pocket. Jason snatched it away and quickly shoved it into his own pocket without checking it. 

“I didn't even know I'd be here until an hour beforehand.” Jason snarled. Timothy hummed and leaned back against the wall, letting his cane rest against the front of his leg. 

“Richard left for Blüdhaven this afternoon and the blood son does not have the control to not stab the first person who annoys him.” Jason turned his head to glare at Timothy, wondering how the hell he knew the things he did. No one was supposed to know Damian was related to Bruce. “There is nothing in this city I do not know, Jason. And no, I'm sadly not psychic. You were giving me a look, one that screamed 'he shouldn't know that.' But I do.” 

Jason gave an annoyed huff, trying to figure out why he put up with someone as arrogant as Timothy. He had forgotten how smug the bastard was when just dealing with him through delivered note cards. 

They stood in silence for a few minutes, eyes grazing over the crowd, before Jason finally decided to address something that had been bothering him since he received the second note card. 

“I don't pay you for the information you give me.” Timothy pushed off the wall, returning to leaning on his cane, and blinked at Jason.

“I will not object if you wish to. Should I tell you my standard fees?” Jason narrowed his eyes and Timothy shrugged. “You take care of things I send you before they become a problem and without fuss. Letting certain things escalate would prove troublesome to not only me, but to Gotham. Gotham takes enough damage without terrorist attacks every other week. You seem to understand that, or you would have told Bruce about our interactions already.”

“Or it could be the fact you threatened us and he doesn't take to being threatened as kindly as I do.” Timothy didn't need to know how much debate had gone into the decision to keep B out of the loop. 

“But you still used what I provided.” 

Jason turned to fully face Timothy, putting on a fake smile so other guests would be fooled by their relaxed demeanor. “I take care of my city.” Timothy seemed amused by the statement; his sharp smile softened and his laugh didn't slice through the air. 

“Fair enough. Enjoy the rest of the event, Jason.” Timothy began to move away, but paused and turned to Jason. “I suggest using the main entrance when you decide to make your departure. Miss Vale is hanging around the back exit waiting to ambush anyone who tries to sneak out.”

“And what is the payment for that piece of information?” Jason asked, not able to help his smirk. 

“Oh, that is free. It is more to spite her than to help you. The woman is the worst villain our city has, I will undermine her every chance I get.” Jason snorted, seeing the truth in Timothy's words. The teen took the moment to slip away, leaning into his cane more than Jason cared for. He made note to ask about it the next time he saw Timothy, if the limp was still there. 

Jason waited until he could no longer see Timothy's figure in the crowd before he pulled the now wrinkled index card from his pockets and unfolded it. There was nothing written on the inside. 

~*~

Catwoman dropped down from the rafters as the last thug went down. “I really hope what is in that lovely velvet pouch in an early birthday present for me.” She purred, sauntering over to Batman as he knelt down to pick up the bag of diamonds the thug had dropped. 

“Your birthday is months away.” Jason could hear the smirk in the Bat's voice, not needing to look up from zip tying the downed gang to know his mentor was in a better mood at the sight of Selina's alter ego. 

“A very early present, then. No? What a shame, because I have a present for you.” When Batman stood back up, Catwoman leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a bright red lipstick stain on the small amount of skin Bruce allowed to show. 

“How very thoughtful of you.” Bruce deadpanned, not moving to wipe away the lipstick just yet.

“Do I get a present, too, Cat?” Jason grinned at Bruce's glare, and it grew when the woman turned to walk to him, purposefully making her heels click on the ground.

“Oh, I could never forget about you, kitten.” Jason stayed crouching so Catwoman had to bend over to place a kiss at his hair line. As she braced herself on his shoulder, he felt a stiff piece of paper slip between the collar of his cape and his skin. Jason titled his head back so it fell into the start of his tunic's armor, making it look like he was trying to catch Catwoman in a proper kiss. She laughed and patted his cheek, playing along with the charade. “Maybe when you are older, kitten.”

With that, she cracked her whip up at the rafters and disappeared into the darkness. Jason went back to finishing the zip ties and after a moment, he heard Batman swear.

“Call to have them picked up then go back to the Cave.” Jason didn't bother looking up; he knew he was already alone. He completed his task, the alerted the authorities, before allowing himself to remove the folded index card from his collar. 

His eyes widened at the neat handwriting: _3578 A S. Gotham Blvd. Joker._

Jason felt the anger rise up into his throat. The Joker hadn't been around in almost a year and Jason hadn't even been able to confront him; he wasn't in the city at the time. It had been an increasingly frustrating trend that Jason was barred from interactions with the clown, in one form or another. Every time they did manage to cross paths, Jason would beat him until Bruce had to physically remove Jason from the scene. He couldn't help it. The bastard had tried to murder him and had never gotten any punishment for it because of forged diplomatic immunity.

The anger, the hatred seethed in Jason; at the Joker, and Bruce, at Dick. He understood his Family's moral code, but they had almost lost him! It was a miracle he had even survived the Joker's beating and the explosion, and even more so that Jason was able to return to being Robin. He had lost almost two years of his life to the Joker. Jason demanded justice!

And now the Joker wasn't only back in Gotham, but he was literally one street over from Jason.

Jason was finally going to get what he deserved. 

~*~

Jason wasn't drunk enough to know he wasn't being followed. The purple blur on the roof had done nothing to hide their presence after Jason called them out on it. The figure stood on the rooftops, jumping after Jason and he had half a mind to go up there and beat some sense into them. 

But he was too tired. Physically, emotionally, mentally, he was just fucking tired. He wanted to go crawl into another bar and drink until he forgot everything that had happened in the past five hours, but even the dingiest holes in the walls had closed their doors half an hour ago. He was aimlessly wandering around Gotham now, trying to process where he could even go to crash, with some one who was a few shades off of looking like a children's show dinosaur shadowing him. 

Jason was about to give up, flop himself into some alley and hope it wasn't already occupied, when the person in the purple get-up dashed over the roofs to be in front of him. They waved down at him, then repelled across the street with a grappling hook. Jason stood and watched as they landed on a street light, then they held their arm out and pointed down the road. 

Jason narrowed his eyes and his feet started acting before his very fuzzy brain could tell him not to follow the directions of someone in a costume he had never even seen before. As soon as he reached the the corner of the street, the figure was flying in front of him, landing further away and beckoning him to come. It went on for blocks, Jason running as hard as he could to try and catch the blur, and the blur leading him somewhere. Jason didn't care where. If it was to his death, so be it. He was too tired for games, but he kept chasing. It was better than going nowhere and relishing in his drunken misery. 

The purple figure finally stopped on top of a building Jason vaguely recognized. Jason looked around, trying to comprehend where he was, while the figure pointed down at the building they were on. Jason swayed in his spot, then slowly shuffled towards the stoop. He pressed his hands against the door, which didn't budge, then groaned and leaned his forehead against it. Maybe he could just slide down and crumble here and wake up before someone could call the cops. Knowing his luck, that would not happen.

Jason forced his eyes open and noticed a buzzer panel beside the door. He looked slowly over the list of names and his heart clenched when one stood out. He reached up and pressed the button beside 'Timothy Drake'. The door swung open almost instantly and Jason fell inside, landing hard on his knees. His world swam around him and it took Jason a good minute to finally push himself into standing. He looked around the lobby of the building and was grateful to see an elevator; there was no way he could climb stairs up to the third story. 

As the doors opened to the right floor, Jason heard Timothy's soft voice echo down the hall. “Yes, he is here now. Thank you for getting him here safe. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask. Alright. Thank you again. Good night, Stephanie.” Jason dragged himself towards the voice, turning the corner to see Timothy standing in the doorway to an apartment, wearing sweatpants and a far too big for him tee shirt. His somewhat long hair was tied back out of his eyes and he was leaning on a cane, a bulkier one than Jason had seen at the Gala. The image did not scream 'feared information dealer and high end hooker' to Jason at all. Timothy gave Jason a soft little smile, the first one Jason had seen in what felt like forever. “I was worried if you took the stairs you were going to pass out on them.”

“You had me followed.” Jason growled, his voice sounding as bad as he felt. Timothy shrugged, then motioned for Jason to follow him into the apartment. Jason did. “Who were they?” 

“She goes by Spoiler, and she is an old friend who I keep off of the radar. Now, sit on the couch and don't throw up on anything. I think I might have enough bottles of water to keep you from getting the hangover from hell.” 

Jason did not argue and made his way to the couch in the center of the living room and plopped down onto it as Timothy used the support of his cane to go to the kitchen. Jason took the chance to look around the apartment. It was on the smaller side, but more than big enough for one person to live in. Jason could see all the basic necessities, but there were very few personal touches; a filled bookshelf against the far wall, a decked out laptop on the table in front of the couch, a DVD rack under the television that hung on the wall, a gaming console beside that, and tucked into the corner beside the door, a black umbrella stand filled with canes. The sight made Jason's heart hurt. 

Perhaps it was the fact he was so tired, or he had drank far too much beer, but Jason could not operate his brain to mouth filter. “The guy who gave you a black eye a few months ago. He's not the one who hurt your leg, is he?” 

“No, he wasn't.” Timothy came back into the living room, carrying an armful of water bottles and a small medicine vial. He deposited them onto the table, then sat beside Jason. 

“Who, then?” Jason asked, reaching for one of the waters. Timothy swatted his hand lightly, then opened the medicine vial, removed two pills, and handed them to Jason. Jason popped them into his mouth without bothering to check what they were, then snatched up a water and chugged half of it down. The coolness of the water made him feel somewhat better.

“Does it matter?” Timothy asked, after Jason had finished drinking.

“I'm drunk and miserable. Humor me.” Timothy hummed and shook his head.

“Only because this is all partially my fault. It was the man of the last couple who tried to adopt me for my inheritance before I became my own guardian.” Timothy reached out and tapped the water bottle in Jason's hand, urging him to drink more. “Slower. You'll get sick otherwise. He shot me in the hip with a Lupara.” 

“A what?” Jason knew he knew the word, but it was not registering in his mind. 

“A shot gun.” 

“Why?”

Timothy rolled his eyes and brought his laptop over to him. He set it on the arm of the couch he was next to, then leaned back into the cushions. “I wouldn't give him what he wanted.” 

Jason finished the first bottle of water and took up the next. He could feel the muscles in his neck start to unwind and his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. He mildly wondered if it was from the exhaustion and alcohol, or if Timothy had given him a sedative. “What did he want?” 

The dangerous smile Timothy gave Jason looked so out of place with the teen looking like he was about to crawl into bed for a nap. “Something I didn't want to give.” 

Jason clutched the water bottle to his chest, intending to drink it, but finding himself slowly moving to be half curled on the couch, facing Timothy. The words the teenager had used early hummed in Jason's quickly fading mind. “You said this was partially your fault.” 

“It is.” Timothy slowly reached out and ran his fingers through the small tuft that made up Jason's bangs. Jason closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, then followed it as Timothy guided him to lay down, with his head next to Timothy's thigh. Fingers resumed carding through his hair and Jason gave a small happy sigh. He didn't know how badly he needed positive contact; someone not yelling at him, telling him what he had messed up in, or hitting him. He couldn't remember the last time someone played with his hair. He wasn't sure anyone ever had. It was incredibly soothing. 

“What is?” Jason wasn't sure if his words had come out as anything more than a grunt. 

Timothy responded, his voice soft and consoling. “Tonight. This. I knew Bruce was keeping you from the Joker because of your rightful anger towards him. I saw all the risks of it; the ever growing tension and distance between you and Bruce, your more frequent solo patrols, the shadow following the Bat and Nightwing around Gotham, being trained to take your place. I knew sending you the location would be a breaking point and I did it anyways.”

“Why?” Another grunt of a question. Jason was lulling between consciousness and sleep and it was impossible for him to even try to open his eyes. 

“One of us deserves justice.” 

~*~

The first thing Jason realized as he began to wake up was that his head hurt. A lot. 

The second thing Jason realized was that it didn't hurt as much as it should for how much he thought he drank the night before. There was an ache behind his eyes that radiated around to his ears, but it wasn't the numbing pain he usually had when he got too close to being shit-faced. 

Jason slowly started becoming aware of things outside of his own body; there was something light, but very warm, draped over his body, he could hear heavy rain fall, and someone had cooked bacon. Intrigued by only the last of those things, Jason pried his eyes open. 

The room was far too bright, but maybe that was because Jason was pretty sure he was in heaven. Sitting on the table in front of him was a perfect plate of eggs benedict, heavy on the bacon, a big mug of what Jason hoped was coffee, and a small bowl of chopped fruit. Jason gently pushed himself into sitting, finally realizing a blanket had been placed over him and his head only spun a little. He used his legs to pull the coffee table closer to him; he did not want to have to reach too far for the food. 

“You better not have scratched my floors.” 

Jason looked up to see Timothy coming out from the hallway that must have lead to the bed and bathrooms. He was holding his own mug and still using his cane to get around. He paused to pick up a tablet from a side table, then sat himself on the other side of the couch. 

“You made me hang-over food.”

“Correction; I ordered you hangover food. If I had cooked that, it would have been ashes. I just took it out of the take out box and put it on a plate.” Jason marveled at the teenager, who was still in his over-sized pajamas. Timothy didn't look over to him as he unlocked his tablet and used it to turn the television on the wall on. It was tuned into the local news station, but the sound had been silenced since the last time Timothy had used it. He didn't unmute it.

“You ordered me hangover food?” 

Timothy hummed and brought up something Jason couldn't see on his device. He seemed completely relaxed around Jason; like Jason hadn't spent most of his nights since puberty beating up criminals, like Jason couldn't beat the shit out of him if he wanted to. It was off putting but also somewhat relaxing. 

“Yes.” 

When Timothy didn't elaborate, Jason took the hint. He knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth and instead brought the plate up into his lap and began eating. Each bite was absolutely perfect and as Jason moved onto the second muffin, he could feel his headache receding. 

“This is amazing.” Jason said around his fork, yolk dripping down his chin. 

“You're disgusting.” Timothy replied, but he was smiling a little. It looked nice on him, instead of the constant poker face or evil smirk. It made him look his age, Jason thought. “It comes from the diner around the corner. They specialize in food that is unhealthy for you.” 

“And they deliver?” 

“They deliver to me.” Jason raised a brow, curious as to why Timothy got such special treatment. “Let's just say that they are the only diner in the Gotham city limits with no attempted robbery in the last year.”

Jason almost choked on his bacon. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“By orchestrating it to be neutral territory for every gang and mob in the city. Save for Black Mask,” Timothy scowled a bit, obviously not happy with the exception, “The other heavy hitters have agreed to it as off limits for a variety of reasons. The word trickled down to the streets so that even the crack addicts are too scared to pull anything.”

“You did all of that just so they would deliver food to you.” 

“I really like their fries.” Jason blinked in surprise because that almost sounded like a joke. Timothy had been serious and to the point every time they had talked before. It made Jason think there was more to the kid than the side he presented to everyone. Timothy glanced to Jason, then shrugged. “It is hard for me to go out when it is raining like this.” He nodded towards the cane leaning against the couch.

“You were walking fine when you were at the club.” 

Timothy chuckled and it sent a sharp tingle of something up Jason's spine. He tried to not let it show on his face. “Do you think anyone would pay for a boy-toy to show off for a night if I came with a limp? It is all about appearances and a cane does not fit into that.”

Jason silently agreed. He also knew that if any of the johns knew that Timothy could not run away, he would probably get assaulted a lot more than he already probably did. 

They didn't talk again as Jason finished his food. He watched the muted television go from a segment on the latest political scandal into a weather update and couldn't help but scowl when he saw there was meant to be heavy rain for at least a week. Timothy set his tablet aside as Jason switched from picking at his fruit to nursing his still somehow warm and perfectly black coffee.

“I feel I should inform you that the Joker is still alive.” Jason stilled. There were far too many emotions running through him for him to cling to one; relief, anger, regret, sadness, and so many more Jason couldn't name. Timothy turned slightly so he was facing Jason, his expression blank. “It was touch and go for the first hours, but he has been stabilized. My source tells me he might even make a full recovery.”

“He's alive?” Jason's mouth felt dry despite the fact he had just taken a sip of coffee not five seconds earlier.

“Yes.”

“I didn't kill him?” 

“It appears so.” Timothy canted his head slightly and Jason could feel himself being studied. How could the younger man figure out how Jason felt about this if Jason couldn't? “Did you intend to kill him?” 

“I don't know. I really don't.” 

“Did you want to kill him?” Jason lifted his head to look at Timothy. He was sitting, one leg, his good leg, Jason told himself, tucked under him, just watching Jason. Jason knew the two questions had very different meanings.

“Yes.” 

“But something held you back.”

“I think that was mostly Batman.” Timothy smiled again and moved to lean back into the couch. 

“Are you going to return to him?” Jason pursed his lips, not wanting to answer such a personal question. He was still trying to figure out how he had come to be sitting on Timothy's couch, discussing things he didn't even want to talk with Dick about, like it was so natural. He didn't even know the teen, but Timothy had taken him in when Jason thought no one else would and had watched over him, like they were friends or something. “I'm sore from walking down the stairs to get you breakfast. Humor me.” There was a twinkle in Timothy's eyes and a stir in the back of Jason's mind that told him that that was a sort of joke between them, but he couldn't exactly remember the context. He gave in.

“I don't think so. Probably not. He benched me. That is one step away from firing me. I think the only reason he didn't is because the brat was there. Save everyone the headache of the kid gloating. Even if I didn't intend to kill him, using everything he did to me on him, I fucking wanted to. I wanted to fucking brain him with a crow bar. And not just for me. For everyone he's fucked over so badly, for everyone he has killed and he will kill if he isn't stopped. And B sees that now, I think. Finally. Some people need to be put down and we will never see eye to eye with that. I can't just go back, even if I didn't end the Joker. Even if I can't bring myself to kill anyone, we will never be able to work together like we used to. And I'll never be Robin, again, anyways.”

“Do you want to be Robin again?” Jason closed his eyes and felt a pain in his chest; a loss of something important to him. Being Robin had meant everything to Jason. It had been his world. He had known for a long time coming he was going to be forced out of the role, one way or another. He hadn't been blind to Damian's training. Jason had wanted to move on on his own terms though, not be fired like Dick had been. He had half ideas of what he wanted to do once he relinquished the role to Damian, but he thought he still had time. He wasn't ready yet. 

Cold fingers touched Jason's arm and his opened to see Timothy slowly pulling his hand away. There was something of an understanding in his icy eyes, but Jason couldn't figure out what it was he understood. “You do not have to be Robin to help the city.”

“I know that.” Jason snapped. He wasn't stupid. Being Robin was more than helping the city, though. It was an ideal. A standard. A hope; to the city and to Jason. 

“You have a need to protect your city.” Jason blinked at the wording, then felt his lips turn up a fraction despite his anger. 

“I thought this was your city, Tim.” Timothy's face screwed up slightly and he huffed.

“Do not call me 'Tim' and I was attempting to be nice to you. To comfort you while you are in an obviously difficult place.” 

“Well you are sort of shit at it, Tim.” The teenager huffed again and tugged at the blanket that Jason was half sitting on. Jason leaned so Timothy could pull it out from under him and watched as the orange fabric got wrapped around thin shoulders. The young man across the couch from him really did look like an overgrown kid instead of the dangerous-almost criminal Jason knew he was.

“You smell like the bottom of a cheap beer glass. The bathroom is the second door on the right. I already put out some clothes I think might fit you.” 

“Are you dismissing me, Tim?” Jason set his mug back on the table and stood up anyways. His muscles screamed at him and his headache started to come back, but Jason found himself still half smiling. 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Do you even know what the bottom of a cheap beer glass smells like? I thought you were too expensive for such a thing.”

“It smells like you do.” Jason laughed. It felt good. It took all of the mixed emotions that were swelling in his chest and released them for a fraction of a moment. It made him forget, just for the time being, that he was no longer Robin, that there wasn't a gaping invisible hole in his chest. There was just the lingering taste of bacon and coffee in his mouth and Tim glaring up at him with no malice in his not-so-cold-now eyes. 

~*~

Jason erased the last of the voice-mails Dick had left him and dropped the disposable cellphone off the bridge and into the river without ending the call. Every message that had accumulated over the last three days had followed the same format: “Jason, we are worried about you. Please let us know you are okay. Come home.” 

Jason decided to take pity on Alfred alone and purchased a postcard from a tourist trap, scrawled that he was alright onto the back of it, and dropped it into the nearest mail box. Alfred had been nothing but kind to Jason and didn't deserve the worry that must have come after Jason had stormed out of the Manor. Jason had no issues with letting Dick and Bruce gain a few wrinkles at the edge of their eyes over his disappearing act, though. 

Jason had honestly expected to be dragged back to the Manor within the first day. He had checked his phone after securing a hotel room and found his text inbox filled with panicked ramblings from Dick. His trackers had been disabled and, according to his brother, there was footage of him entering a bar and never coming out. Jason had at first thought Timothy had done it to protect himself; after all, Jason had literally been lead right to his doorstep. Timothy had already been introduced to Bruce and did not need the man kicking down his door to take his now estranged son back home. Jason would have gotten rid of any evidence that linked them as well had they been in the opposite situation. 

But when Jason had come back that night after collecting supplies from Bruce's safehouses, he was surprised to see a room service tray sitting in front of his door. Under the cloche had been still warm eggs benedict and a folded note card asking him if he had any idea what the concept of staying under the radar meant. He had taken the tray into his room and spent the next two days planning, only leaving his room to get groceries from the gas station down the street. 

As stupid and cliché as Timothy's words had been, they had been true. Jason had a need to protect the city and he didn't need to be Robin to do that. The identity Jason had been toying with adopting had been Red Robin, but now he doubted it. It was too closely related to Robin and thus Batman. He did not want to be associated with that label anymore.

What he had confessed to Timothy continued to ring in his head. He had wanted to kill the Joker. He wanted to permanently rid the street of certain kinds of filth. The justice system was far too corrupted and prison did nothing to rehabilitate the true criminals. People who hurt kids, people who would destroy entire families so they could have a little more pocket money, the psychos who just wanted to cause chaos; they all needed to be put down. Bruce could never see it that way and Jason had tried so hard to follow his vision. 

Jason just could not do that anymore. 

He was brought out of his reflections as a a single headlight turned onto the street he was monitoring, then disappeared into the parking garage he was on. Jason slowly made his way down the side of the building, cursing the heavy rain for making the entire city seem slick. He had almost fallen on his face while traveling across the rooftops more times than he would ever be willing to admit to. He slipped into the safety of the garage in time to hear the engine of the bike die over the rain. 

Timothy looked twice as soaked as Jason felt. His once slim fitting black suit was water logged and his hair was plastered to his face, despite the fact he was carrying a helmet under his arm. 

“I thought you didn't like going out in the rain.” 

To his credit, Timothy's first instinct was to throw his helmet with much more force than Jason thought he could muster directly at Jason's head. Jason easily caught it and tucked it under his arm. 

“Jesus Christ, Jason, you wanted to give me a heart attack, didn't you?”

“Pay back for all your spying on me.” 

“I don't spy, I keep tabs on people.” Timothy started limping towards the staircase, putting all of his weight onto his left leg and reaching out to use the wall to help him balance. Jason moved to stand beside him and offered no help, knowing was it only not needed but it'd be highly insulting to even suggest Timothy might need it. 

“Is 'keeping tabs on people' code for 'completely wiping me off the map and making it so I can't even track myself'? You changed the name my hotel room was under.” 

“'Thank you, Timothy, for keeping Batman from kicking down the door to the very nice hotel I am staying in and dragging me back to that mansion we live in and doing it free of charge. You're such a great guy.'” 

“He would have come in through the window and its called the Manor.” Timothy stopped in his walking to glare at Jason. Jason held up his free hand in defeat; he wanted to be on the younger man's good side tonight, after all. “Thank you, Tim.”

“You are welcome.” Timothy resumed his slow pace until he got to the stairwell, then leaned heavily against the wall. “Okay, I am curious, why are you lurking in my garage at four in the morning?” 

“I missed your sunny disposition and you gave me no way to actually contact you.”

“You are one of two people who know where I live, I figured you would find a way.”

“And so here I am.” Timothy snorted a bit and rested his head on the corner of the wall. The teenager looked beyond exhausted and there was a hint of something hurting beyond his hip in the way he was holding himself. “Hey, are you alright? You look-”

“Jason,” A very annoyed voice cut him off. “What do you want?” 

“Fine, only you get to play concerned friend. I've got a proposition for you.” Timothy rolled his eyes and slowly pushed himself back into standing. He turned and began to climb the stairs, showing no sign of the earlier limp. 

“I'd make a joke about being too expensive for you, but seeing as who you are a ward of, I doubt that is the case.” 

Jason smirked and followed Timothy up the stairs, careful to stay a few steps behind and let the teenager have his space. “Is it a flat rate for a night or do you charge by the hour?” 

Timothy looked over his shoulder at the older man with one eyebrow raised. “I was talking about my other business, but if that is where your mind went first, I am sure we could arrange something.” 

“Oh, har, har, Pretty Boy, do you want to hear what I've got to say or not?”

Timothy stopped half way up to the first floor and leaned against the railing. “You think I am pretty?” Jason narrowed his eyes slightly and Timothy shrugged. “I'm listening.” Jason described his plan, leaving a good fair bit of the details out, to stop the scum of Gotham. “You want to control the drug flow in and out of the city? That is... Why are you tell me this? I get information, I black mail, I make deals, I sell out to the police, and for the past few months, to you. I'm not an enforcer.”

“But you would be, if you could, right? If that asshole wouldn't have shot you, you would have been out on the streets, just like me, and Batman, and Spoiler, right? You've got the itch the protect the city and this is how you do it.” 

Timothy's eyes danced over Jason, then looked away, and Jason knew he was right. That is why he had understood Jason so well. “What do you want from me? And how would it help me, since I have the feeling I wouldn't be getting paid for whatever it is.” 

“Same deal as before, almost. You send me anything the big bads start up or that is too big for the cops to handle and I take care of it and you get me any information I might need. Added bonus of I want to knock Black Mask off of his throne and we both know how you feel about him.”

“All this to keep drugs away from kids and rapists off the streets?” Jason shrugged; there were other things but those had always been the things to make Jason's blood boil. He wanted to make it known he would not stand for it, once he was in charge. “What about the money you would get once you ran the pipeline?”

“Well, I was thinking of a sixty percent cut for myself and then we could negotiate between us what you would get of that. I'm not telling you this out of courtesy. I'm not stupid enough to think I can do this alone. Batman has his Family and network and I want to do the same.” 

Timothy's lips turned down slightly. “I don't work with Bats, Jason. You were the exception.” 

Jason went up a few steps so he was on the same as Timothy and smirked down at him. “I'm not a Bat, anymore, Tim.” The smaller man sighed, then pinched his nose.

“I'm not committing. I'll think about it. But if we do this, we do it together. I'm not your Robin.”

“You'd look great in the pixie boots.” The teen laughed, not his dangerous laugh, but his amused one, and started up the stairs again.

“I wouldn't want the money. Your name associated with mine. You'd have a foothold to work with and I'd get the threat of you, someone I don't have to blackmail or threaten to do something for me when I need something done.”

They turned to go up the next flight of stairs and Timothy swayed slightly. Jason quickly reached out and gripped his shoulder, keeping him from tripping over his own feet. Jason kept his grip tight until Timothy gently pulled away and resumed his climb, not commenting on the action. Jason followed and pushed down his concern that maybe they shouldn't be taking the stairs.

“More money for me, then. But there is one more thing I need from you.” 

“What?” 

“I'm not nearly prepared enough to do it. The training I got from the Bat isn't what I need to go this route. I need more.” Timothy snorted.

“Please don't say you expect me to be your sensei in anything.” 

“No, you can keep your specific skill sets to yourself, thank you very much. I don't want to know what that perverted little of mind of yours knows that isn't relevant to our cause.” 

“Really, your mind goes to sex again? If you want to bang me that much I might not even charge you. Maybe half price.” Jason reached out and playfully shoved Timothy's shoulder, not enough to throw him off balance, but enough to get his point across. “Alright. Give me a list of what you need to master. “ Jason was already prepared and slipped a list he wrote on the hotel room's notepad to Timothy. They paused so it could be read, the younger of the two using his phone for a flashlight. “Fuck, Jason. Okay. It's going to take a few days to arrange everything, but I know someone. Or know someone who knows someones. It will be outside of the country, most likely, since my contact isn't American.”

“That is fine with me.” Timothy nodded and shoved the paper into his pocket.

“You're serious about this, then?” 

“As a heart attack.” Timothy turned to fully face Jason and crossed his arms. He wobbled a bit and Jason almost reached out to steady him, but managed to keep himself in check. Timothy didn't need to be coddled. 

“Alright, then I am making one demand if I join you.” 

“Go for it.” 

“No tights.” 

~*~

Jason barely managed to pat himself down with a towel before collapsing onto the mattress he was calling his bed for one more night. He groped around for his pathetic excuse of a blanket, determining he could get at least three or four hours of sleep before he had to leave for Belarus. He had barely started to drift off when his phone vibrated on the floor next to him. 

True to his words, Timothy had a plane ticket to Turkey and a phone delivered to Jason's hotel room three days after their talk. Jason had left that night, sending a postcard to Alfred at the airport to say that he was leaving the country and wouldn't be back for a while. As soon as he had landed he had been thrown into his new mission; becoming good enough to rule Gotham's underworld. It had started with a refresh of everything he already knew, then had moved advanced hand to hand combat training, close range weapons, long range weapons, the making of bombs, anything he thought he might need. Each art had its own master that Jason traveled across Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East to learn from. He had stopped counting the weeks and now thought in terms of what he needed to know next. 

The phone vibrated again and Jason swore it sounded angrier. He snatched it up to see two texts from Timothy waiting for replies. 

**[I don't like him.]**

**[Scratch that I hate him.]**

Jason sighed and rolled onto his side, curling around his phone as he replied. 

**[You hate a lot of people. You have to be more specific.]**

He had started to fall asleep again when his phone went off in his hand. He brought it up to his face and squinted at it. He was met with a high quality, yet candid, picture of Batman and what Jason knew to be the new Robin. They were standing on what looked to be a Wayne Tower gargoyle and Robin had a smug smirk on his face. Jason decided quickly he did not like Damian as Robin. It looked too right on him. Jason closed the picture out and replied to Timothy.

**[Which one?]**

As Timothy took his minute to reply, Jason wondered how the hell Timothy had gotten that shot. There were no security cameras, the city's or Oracle's, that were that clear. Had Timothy paid someone to crawl along buildings and take pictures of the Bat and how long had it taken from them to get knocked on their ass after being spotted?

**[The tiny one. He kicked Spoiler off roof when she was on Patrol. She hadn't even been doing anything, just watching her mark. He chased her half way across the city because she wouldn't talk to him and didn't stop until I triggered multiple alarms for high end jewelry shops at once and sent calls that Harley Quinn had been spotted at each one. He almost broke her arm.]**

Jason raised his brows at the message. He had no idea how long Spoiler had been operating but he had only seen her once; the night she lead him to Timothy's apartment. For Damian to just happen upon her proved either his skill or that she was slipping. Jason ran his thumb over the screen, then set his phone aside, hoping Timothy would take pity on him and not want to rant about his replacement. There had been a few nights, or mornings in many cases, that Timothy had kept Jason awake by sending long texts about different things he had been working on. Jason was just as guilty of these rants, though his tended to focus on how most of the people Timothy's contact sent him to were some of the worst kinds of criminals and after his lessons were done, Jason took them down. There had been one rant about how he and his teacher did not share one common language, despite them both being able to speak multiple. Timothy had found that very amusing. 

**[How long has he been active?]**

**[Tonight is his first night out.]** Then a half a moment later. **[I don't like him, Jason.]**

Jason rolled his eyes and sighed, turning so he could stretch out on his back and hold the phone at arm's length. 

**[I can't really do anything about it, sorry. He's always been a brat.]**

**[Kick him off a building when you get back and let me film it.]**

Jason laughed, something that lately only came from when he read one of Timothy's texts. 

**[Can do. Now let me sleep.]**

His phone buzzed almost instantly. 

**[Thank you. I'll send you the reports before you get to Belarus. Good night.]**

~*~

It took all of Jason's control to not pick up his phone and not call Timothy to scream at him, tell him he was a fucking idiot. His newest adviser, some one who was teaching him to build the gear he would need and an actual decent human being for once, had let it slip that he had been hired by Ra's al Ghul to train Jason. 

He wanted, no needed, to know how the hell Timothy and Ra's al Ghul had become friendly. He wanted to ask if the teenager had any clue as how dangerous of a man Ra's al Ghul was, to show him what Ra's had done over the years. He knew Timothy wasn't stupid and must know the truth about who he had been dealing with, but Timothy was Jason's friend and Jason wanted to protect him. Everyone needed protecting from the Demon's Head.

Jason turned to snatch up his phone just as it began vibrating. He growled as he opened up the message, then growled again, his anger shifting from Timothy to whoever the hell had texted Jason with his phone. If they had hurt him at all, they were going to be Jason's first confirmed kill. 

**[sry the reports are late]**

Jason's fingers flew over his screen and he was trying to resist the urge to book the next ticket back to Gotham until he had some answers. 

**[Who are you? What did you do to Timothy?]**

The minutes began to stretch out and Jason pulled up a list of flight times. He was debating between two airports with similar departures when his phone alerted him to a new message.

**[shit I forgot to type like him like he said i'm too tired for this W/e its Spoiler Tim got himself stuck in the hospital for at least like the night and asked me to send you his reports it was a v. slow night apparently]**

Jason stared at the phone in his hand, feeling his heart beating too hard in his chest and the anger he had felt shifting into panic. He could not even process that Timothy had trusted Spoiler enough to let her know he had been sending daily reports of what crimes had been occurring in Gotham as well as the movements of Batman and Robin. He could only reread the line that said Timothy was in the hospital.

**[Is he okay?]**

Jason began to pace as he waited for Spoiler's reply. It came quicker than her last, but not quick enough to keep Jason's mind from imaging what exactly had happened to his friend. 

**[yeah the physical embodiment of pride slipped down a flight of stairs instead of using the elevator like he should and someone called 911 when he couldn't get back up its just his ego that is hurt]**

Jason closed his eyes, relief washing over him. Timothy was okay. Or he would be, according to Spoiler. The fear that one of his clients, from either of his businesses, had hurt him edged away and other concerns began to take over. His phone dinged as the data on Gotham was sent to him and Jason opened the file. Even if it had been a slow night, he needed to make sure he knew everything that had gone down. 

As he read about how long it took his former mentor and his new sidekick to stop the robbery of an armed car, Jason couldn't stop himself from trying to figure out how hurt Tim had to be to not be able to get up after falling. 

~*~

Gotham, at its core, never seemed to change; the air tasted like smog, it was physically impossible to see the stars inside the city limit, and there was always a the distant wail of a siren. Jason didn't realize how much he had missed those small comforts until he was back in his hometown. 

While Gotham had stayed the same, Jason hadn't. He had been tall as Bruce for years, but he'd always kept himself lithe, much like Dick. He had this idea in his head that Robin should not look like the brawler that Jason internally was. He no longer had those mental restrictions and had put on a fair bit of muscle. It helped with his new intimidating image. The added weight was something Jason had to adjust to, though, so he planned to reacquaint himself with the city before making his first move. 

Jason had changed more than physically. His core values and beliefs remained the same, but the morals Bruce had instilled in him had been broken down. Lethal force could be necessary at times, but Jason was not out to kill every wrong doer. He hadn't actually killed anyone since leaving Gotham. He learned to hurt people in more ways than Bruce had ever taught him, and he had toed the line, but had not crossed it. He wanted his first kill of his new life to mean something. 

It had been pouring when Jason had left and it was only fitting that it was doing so again when he returned. He had arranged as much as he could while overseas, so that when he arrived, he had a somewhat furnished apartment and supplies ready for him to pick up. Timothy had offered a space in the building he lived in, since he apparently owned the entire thing and was the only real tenant, but Jason had declined. He didn't want to endanger Timothy should someone try to follow Jason home after a patrol or something. 

After he somewhat settled in, and found the nearest place to get a good meal, Jason spent hours driving around the city, looking for any small changes that Timothy might have failed to mention in his reports. There had been none and it was relieving to know his partner in what he was about to undertake was as thorough as he was. He had not chosen Timothy simply for his skills at gathering information. 

As the sun began to set, Jason made his way back to his apartment. His new shiny statement piece, equipped with anything he would ever need, sat on his dining table in a steel box. He itched to use it and all of his new armor, but he knew that was not for now. He had to wait to make a proper debut, so he instead stuck to his street clothes, a domino mask, and simple gear. He did not plan for trouble, but Gotham always had something in store. 

Jason couldn't resist the urge to grab his new reinforced leather jacket. He only had so much will power.

~*~

Park Row had been the area Jason decided to carve out for his own; it contained the worst of the worst kind of scum he wanted to rid the street of and even the Bat didn't touch it. Most crimes that occurred in the area didn't even get reported to the police, so Jason only had a rough estimate of what his patrol route should be. He was going to allow himself a week to perfect it, to study patterns of activity, before taking any dramatic action. That did not stop him from interfering with what he saw, though.

Jason was scaling the wall of a particularly dirty alley after the fifth mugging he had stopped that night when the comm link in his ear cackled to life. For now, it had only been connected to Timothy's system; Jason hadn't even tuned it in to the police frequency and Jason had not set up his own. He hadn't wanted to be distracted just yet.

“Hello?” A distinctly female voice echoed in his head. She sounded weary, but not like someone Jason would want to cross. 

“Hello.” He replied, assuming it was Spoiler on the other end. Timothy trusted no one else it seemed like. 

“It's Spoiler.” The voice said, confirming his suspicions.

“I guessed that. I didn't think he'd give out my frequency to random people.”

“No, he wouldn't. He only gave it to me in case of an emergency...and he never even told me who you are, beyond someone he trusts.” That made Jason's heart swell with pride; the fact Timothy had told Spoiler he trusted Jason. 

“Red Hood. Is this a social call to tell me you can talk to me or is there an actual emergency?” 

“Alright, Hood. And yeah, about that, I guess you didn't get the alert?” 

Jason's brows knit in confusion and he crouched onto the edge of the roof, deciding not to go in any one direction just yet. “What alert?”

“Tim tripped his emergency beacon. Something is going down and he can't get out of it, and I'm not inside city limits. Even if I was, he's clear on the other side of Gotham from what the alert said.” 

Panic and anger raced through Jason's stomach, up to his chest. Panic over not knowing what had happened to cause his friend to need intervention and that Timothy actually had a panic button set up and anger over the fact Jason was not privy to these alerts. Though, Jason had decided to come back to Gotham without telling Timothy a week earlier than he had planned to, but he had just assumed the younger man would know without needing to be told. Jason had also not brought his helmet with him, which had more interface than the comm in his ear. But the matter was that Timothy should have found a way to alert Jason beyond his helmet. 

“Where?” He was surprise to hear himself growl out the question.

“It's a club called The Avenue, in Monolith Square. It's his regular spot to meet clients.” Jason knew the club, its roof was where he had first met Timothy.

Jason let out another growl, this time more aware of his action. He was glad he had gone against his desire to only get around Park Row via grappling hook and had parked his bike somewhere close by. Getting over the bridge, especially in the rain, otherwise would have been a pain in the ass and would have just made Jason angrier. 

Jason had been trying to not to think about what sort of situation Timothy was in as he traveled, but upon seeing police helicopters and cruisers surrounding the block the club was located on, his mind went to the worst of the worst. This kind of involvement usually was the result of one of Batman's Rogues. Jason found a discrete alley for his bike and went to the rooftops, knowing the police would not be stopping the foot traffic above them. 

Snipers lined the buildings surrounding the club and Jason knew it wasn't often that the GCPD put this kind of force out. Whatever was happening was serious and would call the attention of his ex-mentor soon. He was surprised his heart wasn't racing as he slipped through the fields of vision and found an open entrance into The Avenue, a floor up from the heart of the club and into a hallway that Jason suspected held the offices of the owners. 

He could hear the screaming of the patron's below him, and the terrified energy jump started his own adrenaline. Part of him wanted to go see what was causing all of this chaos, and to shut it down, but he knew his mission was to find Timothy and get him the hell out of here. Or that is what he told himself. 

There were two guards standing watch at the opposite end of the hall, by the staircase leading down into the dance floor and bar, and both of them carried sub-machine guns. Jason had the advantage of them not anticipating an attack from behind and dropped them both before they could alert anyone else to his presence. 

Jason pressed himself against a wall and licked his lips while he thought of everything he knew about Timothy. The two times he had seen the younger man exit the club, his clothes had been pristine, so he would not have been pressed against people dancing all night. The bar or VIP booths didn't offer the solitude of meeting clients, for either of Timothy's nightly activities. Roof access was usually restricted, and Timothy didn't seem the type to sneak around, so he would already have been able to come up the stairs to the offices to use the staircase to the roof. So, unless he had been dragged downstairs by thugs, it was a good bet Timothy was in one of the offices. 

Jason just had to figure out which of the three doors he was behind. 

Which was surprisingly simple when a rough voice coming from room at the end of the hall barked out, “Suck it it like you mean it, boy!”

Jason pushed himself off the wall and stalked silently down the hallway, his anger and rage coming to a boiling point. He stopped in front of the door, waiting only half a moment, then kicked the door in. His anger peaked at the scene he saw.

An older man in only half a well tailored suit, lay on the floor by the desk, eyes glassed over and a still bleeding bullet hole in his chest. By the luxuriousness of the office, Jason figured him to be the owner of the club. But Jason didn't care about him.

A man in a black ski mask, who was built suspiciously similar to a pro-wrestler, was standing in the middle of the room, one hand curled tightly, and probably painfully, into Timothy's hair. The other was holding a hand gun, with the barrel shoved deep into Timothy's mouth. The teen was on his knees, and the placement of the gun in front the man's crotch made it very clear what it symbolized. 

Timothy looked worse for wear. He was clad only in his slacks, which were unbuttoned and unzipped, and Jason could see that there was nothing under them. His arms were bound behind his back with what looked like suit ties, one around his wrists, while another was holding his biceps together. Bruises were forming on his shoulders, neck, and jaw, and there was a huge gash on his temple that looked like it had been the result of a good pistol whipping. The worst thing was the lack of fear in Timothy's icy blue eyes. It was the same cold, calculated look Jason had seen in them in their first encounter. 

Jason raised his gun before his foot hit the ground from kicking the door off its hinges and he squeezed the trigger without so much as a second thought. The bullet ripped the ski mask and then embedded itself into the wall as the man whose head it went through dropped to the ground. Timothy kept the gun from clattering to the ground as well by biting down onto it, then leaned forward to spit it onto the body in front of him. He looked back up to Jason, gore splattered across his face, and smirked, almost looking amused.

“You took your time getting here. Did you stop for coffee or something?” Jason scowled at first, but Timothy just kept smirking, and it made Jason's lips turn up at the corners. 

“I didn't get the invitation. Spoiler had to call and tell me there was a party going on.” 

Timothy wrinkled his nose at Jason and despite the blood and brain matter he was covered in, he still looked attractive making a stupid face. “Huh, I thought I had worked out all the bugs of it sending alerts to phones. I'll have to go back and redo that, I guess. Now, can you please come untie me, this is really uncomfortable.” 

“What the fuck happened here?” Jason asked, going to the younger and kneeling behind him to untie the knots holding his arms behind his back. The anger was receding now that he knew Timothy was safe and apparently still his arrogant self. 

“Black Mask decided to make a hostile take over. The idiot,” He nodded towards the owner of the club, “Was trying to start his own trade for the club kids. He was a good fuck and tipped like hundred dollar bills were ones, but the man should have just stuck to running the business that made him rich.” Timothy rolled his shoulders once his arms were free, then took a steadying breath. Jason stood and watched him clasp his pants shut, then hesitate, which worried Jason; he had only ever seen Timothy as confident of every move. 

He understood when Tim had to lean forward onto his hands to brace his weight so he could get his left leg out from under him, to prepare him for standing. Jason clenched his jaw again. He had forgotten, in all of the anger and worry, that Timothy had probably been forced to his knees, aggravating his weaker leg. Timothy's arms began to shake before he could push himself up, and Jason acted before thinking. He grabbed the smaller man by the bicep and gently, slowly, pulled him into standing. Timothy blinked at the elder, looking a little wide eyed as he did, and his smirk softened into a smile. 

“Thanks.” The smile was quickly replaced by a more practical look. “I'm guessing Gordon has snipers trained on the exits, given the amount of hostages?” Jason nodded. Timothy sighed and pushed his hands through his hair before moving carefully towards the desk, putting almost no weight on his right leg, save for when he needed to step over the club owner's body. He grabbed a thin white dress shirt that had partially fallen behind the desk and began to pull it on. “Well, the one sent to kill Ross is dead, and I'm suspecting he was high on the chain of command of this attack. Black Mask wouldn't come himself, but he wouldn't trust any old lacky to do something so grand.” Jason nodded, understanding his train of thought. If the dead man had been the leader, the others would start panicking soon. The GCPD could handle them, then. 

There was the tale-tell noise of glass shattering in the hallway and Jason grabbed Timothy around the middle, quickly dragging him down behind the desk. Jason listened as he had been trained to to the almost non-existent footsteps race down the hall. They paused only for a nano-second in front of the office with the open door, before moving on and down the stairs. 

“Oh, that would have been very awkward if he got here before you did.” Timothy mumbled. Jason looked down at him, the black hair tickling his nose as he did, and he couldn't help but snort. 

“Come on, the snipers will clear now that the Bat made his grand entrance. My bike is a few streets over.” They stood, Jason bringing Timothy up with him, and holding him maybe a little bit too close. “We still have to move fast, though...” The implication was left unsaid. Jason simply refused to leave Timothy behind. Blue eyes, highlighted by red smears around them, glared at him for a moment before closing, and the other gave a nod. 

Jason couldn't help but mumble an apology as he turned and bent down slightly. He was thinking of things more as he would need to carry the man anyways, because Jason only had one grappling hook, and he wasn't sure Timothy had the upper body strength or know-how to use one. And carrying Timothy on his back was much more dignified for both of them then Jason carrying him in his arms. 

Jason adjusted to the new weight on his back quickly and moved once Timothy seemed secure. Jason was right about the lack of snipers and he couldn't help but smile a little when he launched himself out of the window. Timothy pressed his forehead into Jason's shoulder and tensed, like he feared Jason might drop him or something. He landed on the adjacent building with a heavy thud, and didn't stop moving. Jason didn't need his hook to make the leaps over the remaining alleys, and each jump had Timothy clinging to him. 

Finally, Jason slid down the fire escape of an apartment building and landed in the alley he had parked his bike in. Timothy removed himself from Jason's back almost as soon as Jason's feet touched the concrete and Jason turned to face him, his breath hitching slightly when he did.

The rain had caused the blood and brain matter to run down the teen's face and neck, leaving only a small portion of his skin untouched. His shirt had turned sheer from the water, save the collar, which had taken on an eerie pink quality. The amusement and seriousness were gone from his eyes and something that made Jason's anger spike again was shining through. It was an uncomfortable emptiness that made Jason want to go back to the club and empty his clip into the guy with the ski mask's body. 

“Christ, Tim, you could have grabbed your jacket first before we made our get away.” Jason shrugged off his own and wrapped it around the younger's thin shoulders. Timothy pulled it on properly without word while Jason climbed onto his bike, starting it up. He revved the engine a few times, then when arms wrapped themselves loosely around his waist and Timothy's chest was once again pressed against his back, Jason sped off. 

~*~

“Here, let me do it.” Jason kept his voice soft as he gently pried the wash cloth from Timothy's hand. The teen hadn't said a word since they had left the club, and Jason could tell everything that had happened had shaken him. Jason recognized the behavior as one he had not only seen himself do, but Bruce and Dick as well. In the heat of everything, they were completely sure of themselves, almost cocky, but once the danger had passed, everything broke down. Jason wasn't sure how often Timothy dealt with death in person, or how often he had to give a blow job to a gun, but they were things to understandably be rattled over.

Jason rinsed the cloth after making the water coming from the faucet warmer. It had been icy cold and Jason didn't think Timothy even noticed. Jason rang out the wash cloth once it was clean again and took Timothy's chin in one hand, turning his head so he was looking at Jason, then began to wipe away the blood that the rain hadn't washed away. The smaller man watched with a blank expression as Jason took care in cleaning his face and put up no resistance when Jason tilted his face around to make sure he got all the blood. 

“Okay,” Jason set the wash cloth aside after rinsing it for the last time, then looked Timothy up and down. “Wet clothes next.” He reached up and patted the younger on the cheek, “Are you with me enough to do that yourself, or are you going to have to bill me for undressing you? Hands on strip tease.” Jason pushed back his worry to give a somewhat dirty grin. He knew treating Timothy like an invalid or worse, seeming like Jason pitied him, would just make things worse. Humor, Jason hoped, would help Timothy come back to him. 

Timothy blinked up at Jason for a moment, then brushed past him out of the bathroom and made his way down to his bedroom. Jason took that as a good sign, and went to the kitchen to gather supplies. Each drawer and cabinet was surprisingly, and helpfully, labeled. The drawer beside the refrigerator held various medication and he dug through that until he found a sedative, then grabbed a water bottle and headed to the living room. 

Timothy, now using the support of a cane, returned from his bedroom in dry clothes and carrying Jason's jacket. He slung it over the back of the couch, then collapsed onto the cushions. Jason sat beside him and held out the water and the pill, stating what is was; the blue oval pill was not very distinctive. 

Pale fingers purposefully brushed over Jason's palm before picking up the pill and pushing it between Timothy's lips. He took a long sip from the water bottle, having taken it without touching Jason, then set it aside on the coffee table. Jason waited, watching as Timothy adjusted into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the couch and turning his head slightly to look up at the older man. 

“I remember,” Timothy said slowly, barely talking above a whisper, “When I was younger, when you had just taken up the mantle of Robin, we almost met. It is a funny thing, to almost meet someone. It would have occurred outside of your uniform, you would have never of known that I knew I was talking to Robin. It was a Gala or a Ball or some horrible event that my parents wanted to drag me to, to show me off for some reason or another for bragging purposes. I think I had won an award that the host's child was hoping to get. My parents were like that, it was the only time I would get to go to those things. Anyways, I had found out Bruce Wayne would be attending the party with his new ward; Jason Todd. The new boy wonder, but no one else knew that. I had met Dick Grayson on multiple occasions by then and I had wanted to meet you.” Timothy's lips turned up slightly. “It had been raining the night before and I had stayed out too late. I woke up with a horrible cold. My parents took me to the event at my insistence, but we had to leave within the hour; I was too sick. You had arrived when I was leaving, and you smiled towards me. After that, it was harder for me to find place to cross your path. I don't think you were as accepting of being dragged to those things as Dick was..”

Jason stared at Timothy, confused as to why he had been told that, but one fact couldn't get out of his mind. “You knew who I was from the start?” 

Timothy laughed, sounding tired, but amused. It warmed Jason's heart. “I've known Bruce Wayne was Batman since I was nine. Dick Grayson was Robin, then moved on to be Nightwing. Bruce Wayne adopted a young teen, then a short time later, a new Robin appeared. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together.”

“You've known for nine years who Batman is?” Jason's voice might have gotten a little high at the question. Timothy laughed again. 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like a long time.”

“That is a long time, Tim. How? How did you know? And did you ever tell anyone?” Even if Jason and Bruce had had a falling out, Jason needed to know if anyone else knew who they were behind the masks, and how easy it was for someone to figure out if a nine year old had done it. He was unable to truly process how long Timothy had known who he was behind the mask and he wanted to know how the younger had figured it out.

“Maybe one day I'll you how I solved that mystery, but don't worry, my not-so-little ex-bird. Your secret has always been safe with me. I've not told a soul in all these years.” Timothy reached up an tapped the side of his nose. “I despised the man after my parents died. I still..I don't hate him. I understand now what happened, but I was not stupid enough to in danger the city because I was hurt.”

“You threatened to tell if I didn't leave you alone.” Jason reminded him, frowning.

“I calculated you wouldn't risk it. And if you did, I had other information I could leak before going into hiding.” Timothy hummed, shrugging a little. “Things that would cause you problems, but nothing as dangerous as putting your life at risk like your name would. Even if Selina had never introduced us, I would never have given that information up. There are somethings that are not for sale, Jason.” 

Jason looked over the young man in front of him, amazed by him. He remembered the way Timothy had taken out the man who had tried to attack him in the parking lot like it had been nothing, how he kept his head in situations, used the most effective way to get out of danger, how he was brilliant and in touch with Gotham he was, in ways even Batman wasn't. The only reason he wasn't out on the streets, kicking ass and taking names himself was because of his leg. If he wasn't injured as he was...

“You would have made a hell of a Robin.” 

Tim laughed once more, throwing his head back as he did. “I don't do tights, and the position was taken.” 

“It was open for two years.”

“You would have hated if someone came in and replaced you. You hate it that someone replaced you, and you were the one that walked out.” 

“I quit before I was fired.” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “I got a better gig.” 

“With a better, prettier partner.” 

“You think you are better than Batman?” 

Timothy shrugged, then grinned, the nothingness that been behind his eyes finally fading. “I know I am at least prettier than him.”

“I will give you that.” Jason hummed, looking over Timothy. Bruce was handsome, in his own way. He certainly wasn't ugly. But Timothy was handsome and pretty, reminding Jason more of a poisonous flower than someone who could be on the cover of a magazine. He wondered if the younger had ever crossed paths with Poison Ivy and what she would think of him. 

Timothy gave Jason a curious look, then tilted his head to the side. “Say it.”

“Say what?” Jason relaxed back into the couch, the night's events starting to catch up to him.

“Say I'm pretty.” 

“Are you serious?” Jason asked after snorting. “Did you suddenly become an insecure teenage girl? Don't you want to be dashing or handsome or something less...delicate than pretty?” Timothy reached the short distance between them and hit Jason in the shoulder, harder than Jason expected of him.

“Don't be misogynistic.”

“Sorry.” Jason rubbed his shoulder while Timothy stared at him expectantly. “You really want me to tell you you are pretty?” The younger nodded and Jason sighed, wondering if there was a point or if he was just stroking Timothy's ego. “You are pretty...pretty lame.” Jason grinned as Timothy hit his shoulder again. Jason laughed and attempted to scoot back, away from another playful hit from the other. “I'm sorry, sorry, it was too easy. Okay, fine, ow! You don't have to hit me so hard, Tim. You're going to leave a bruise.” His grin softened to a smile, his words coming out a sincere. “You are pretty. Now why did I need to tell you that?” 

Timothy leaned his shoulder into the back of the couch, looking at Jason with half lidded eyes. Jason couldn't tell if they were like that because the sedative had kicked in or if it was something else. “Because you were thinking it...”

“I was not.” 

“You were, too.”

“There is no way you could tell what I was thinking.” Jason frowned, not liking how Timothy was able to read him so easily., though he would never admit out loud what he had been thinking.

“You agreed I was prettier than Batman then looked like you wanted to kiss me.” Jason's eyes widened. 

“What?” 

“You were staring at my lips, Jason.”

“I was not.”

“Do you want to kiss me?” Jason opened his mouth, but was unable to answer. He had never thought of it before, but now that it had been mentioned, he wasn't sure. The answer was complex, with so many variables. He did, but he didn't, but, God, he did. He wanted to hold him close and taste him, see if his lips were as brilliant as the rest of him; if he was as sharp and deadly as he looked at times. 

“Because I want to kiss you.” Timothy was leaning in closer and Jason could see the fibers of the butterfly band aid they had put over the cut on his face so clearly. Then with a blink of an eye, Timothy was practically on top of Jason, too cold hands cupping his jaw and softer than Jason could ever have imagined lips pressed to his. The kiss was hesitant, questioning, and Jason knew that if he didn't respond to it, Timothy would pull away and the matter would never be mentioned again.

But Jason didn't want Timothy to pull away. Not ever.

Jason tangled his fingers into still wet locks and pulled the younger man flush against him. He kissed back harshly, letting there be no doubt in what he wanted. A low moan bubbled from Timothy's throat and it went straight to Jason's groin. The younger quickly changed from shy to demanding, sucking Jason's bottom lip into his mouth and dragging his teeth over it. Jason pulled Timothy ever closer, wanting the younger to know just how much he enjoyed the gesture.

When Timothy finally released the bottom half of Jason's mouth from captivity, Jason pushed his knee up between the back of the couch and the smaller body on top of him and flipped them, so that Jason was the one on top. The response was immediate, the cold hands moved from his jaw to his shoulders and Timothy's left leg locked around Jason's thigh, pulling him down and close. It was Jason's turn to moan and the opportunity was taken advantage of; Timothy's tongue pushed past Jason's lips and brushed his own. 

Jason had had his fair share of kisses before; missions with too close of calls with the Titans had more often than not lead to Jason pinning someone against a wall to work out the last of their adrenaline or finding someone to go home with after being dragged to one of Bruce's socialite parties. Kissing the man under him held no resemblance to those encounters. There was something else besides a raw sexual need that Jason wasn't accustomed to; there was passion. Timothy wasn't kissing Jason because he was there, available to kiss; Timothy was kissing Jason because he wanted Jason and it made his head spin. He had never had that before, had never felt so wanted for all parts of him. Timothy had seen Jason kill a man not an hour earlier, but they were still tangled with each other. He knew what Jason was capable of, what he wanted to do, yet Timothy was kissing him despite all of that.

A tightness built in Jason's chest and he realized he had forgotten to breath. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at the man under him in wonder. Timothy's icy eyes were half lidded still and his swollen pink lips were quirked into a soft smile. He wasn't breathing heavily like Jason was. 

Jason leaned back down to catch Timothy's lips once again, this time being the one to be hesitant and soft. The tight grip on his shoulders loosened and Jason almost began to panic before he felt them gently curl into his shirt. Timothy's eyes fluttered shut and the kiss remained slow and sweet, neither pushing it to the biting need it had been the first time around. 

It was once again something Jason had never really experienced for himself and he moved to balance on one hand so he could cradle Timothy's cheek with his other, wanting to show the other he wanted things to stay as they were. 

The rush of adrenaline from the night and the first began to fade and Jason found the kiss to be relaxing. His thoughts swirled to a slow fuzziness and he found himself only thinking of how good Timothy's lips felt against his. Jason figured Timothy to be as calmed as he was when the kiss came to a gradual end, as the younger stopped responding, but did not pull away. 

Jason lifted his head and couldn't stop his lips from turning up at seeing Timothy had drifted into a half sleep. He was not insulted in the least; the night had been intense and Jason knew all too well that the sedative he had been given was one step shy of being a horse tranquilizer. Jason pressed one last soft kiss to his lips, then removed himself from the couch. 

He debated carrying Timothy back to his bedroom, but decided against it. The younger had not invited Jason into that room yet and Jason figured there to be a reason for it. Instead he found the orange blanket Timothy had given him his first time in the apartment and laid it out over the teen, making sure he was comfortable. 

Jason watched Timothy for a minute, waiting to see if he would wake up, and wanting to make sure he seemed peaceful in his slumber, before grabbing his things and leaving. 

When he got to his own apartment, he found it feeling empty and cold, and turning on the heat did nothing to make it feel any warmer. 

~*~

Jason wasn't sure how he had ended up standing on the roof across the street from Timothy's apartment building. He had started his night in Park Row, slowly letting it be known that the area now had its own protector, but not yet revealing himself. It had been two nights since he had been wrenched from the area via Spoiler's call, but he had not actually talked to the man he had gone to rescue. There had been a few texts from Timothy, vague questions regarding Jason's plans for his debut, but nothing of their kiss. 

Jason wanted to know why it wasn't mentioned; it was the only thing he could think about. The lack of any acknowledgment made Jason paranoid. Had the kiss been like every other kiss he had received; the result of the come down of an adrenaline high? Had he imagined the emotion behind it because he had wanted things to be different with Timothy?

A dark place in Jason's mind pointed out Timothy probably knew how to fake the passion in a kiss; make it seem like the only person he wanted was the one he was with at the moment. It was his job, wasn't it? Jason wasn't sure what the details of it all was, but people wouldn't pay so much money for someone to simply lay there. Whatever Tim did with his clients, he was good at it. 

Jason didn't want to just be another john. He couldn't stand the thought of Timothy kissing him for that reason. He wanted to be kissed because the younger wanted to do it, because he felt something towards Jason. 

Because Jason felt something towards Timothy Drake. Jason wanted to kiss him again, kiss him hard until neither of them could breath, kiss him slowly like time meant nothing, just kiss him. He wanted to run his hands all over Timothy's slim frame, explore the way his hips stuck out and rub at his shoulders to ease the tension Jason knew must be housed there. He wanted to text him at ungodly hours, ranting about things that had pissed him off and to be woken up by his phone going off because Timothy needed to rant. He wanted to sit and drink coffee that had long gone cold with the other, planning out exactly how they were going to take over the Gotham underworld together. He just wanted to be with him and Jason didn't know what one emotion described all of that, but whatever it was, he felt it. 

Jason was torn from his thoughts as a blonde female exited Timothy's apartment, bouncing down the stoop with a grin on her face. Jason narrowed his eyes, then they widened in realization. It was the girl who had been with Timothy at the University. Given the rather distinct gold polo shirt she was wearing, she was a barista at the coffee shop inside of the Wayne Enterprises building, which is why Jason had vaguely recognized her before. 

She was also Spoiler; it was the only reason she would be leaving the building where Timothy lived so late at night.

Jason watched as she paused on the corner of the street to adjust the backpack she was wearing, then disappear around the corner. 

Jealousy bubbled in Jason's chest. He wanted to know what Timothy had told Spoiler about him; about their mission. He wanted to know if he had mentioned their kiss. Jason knew nothing about the girl, but she had been privy to delicate information about him so far, and Jason knew that Timothy had talked about him to her before. Otherwise she wouldn't have known Timothy trusted Jason.

He decided against following her and demanding the information. He didn't think attacking Spoiler would go over so well in Timothy's book. Instead, he slipped down into sitting, eyes going back to the window he knew was Timothy's apartment. The lights were on, as were lights behind other windows all over the building, but Jason could not see inside. He did not just want to see inside, he wanted to cross the street and bang on the door of apartment 3B until he was let inside, but Jason was unsure how the man who had occupied his mind all night would react to that. 

He leaned his elbows into his thighs and stared at the window, hoping to maybe catch a glance of a silhouette passing by, but no such thing occurred. Rather, his phone gave an angry vibrate and pinged with the alert tone Jason had assigned for when Timothy texted him. Jason pulled the device from his pocket and felt his cheeks color at the message. He pretended it was because of the chilly night air.

**[Are you going to stay out there all night or are you going to stop being a creep and come inside? The code for the door on the roof is 1653.]**

Jason considered fleeing, but he knew the other already knew he was there. So, he did what he knew Timothy wanted him to do and pulled out his grappling hook.

Jason could hear soft music as he descended the stairs to the floor Timothy lived on. His brows knit in confusion for a moment at the sounds of a violin and other string instruments, as he didn't recognize the song playing as something traditionally classical, then he grinned, realizing it was an orchestra cover of a punk song. It seemed oddly fitting for Timothy.

The door to the apartment was open, so Jason saw no need to knock. Jason pushed it open more to slip in easier, then paused in the doorway, his breath hitching at the sight of Timothy on the couch. The teen was lounging into the cushions, dressed in an almost comically over sized sweater and wearing wire framed glasses,with his hair tied messily back to keep it out of his face as he worked on his laptop. The cut on his temple had begun to scab over, but the bandages had been removed at some point. 

Jason found he preferred this look to the slick suits Timothy wore while out. It was casual and relaxed.

Jason understood very suddenly that he was allowed to view Timothy like this, allowed to see behind the suits, the dangerous smiles; behind the shadowy information dealer and the high class whore. They could have worked together as they planned their take over as their personas; as Timothy and the Red Hood, as two people to be feared by the wrong doers of Gotham. Jason had shown his vulnerable side to Timothy the moment he had been lead drunk to Timothy's doorstep, but the other had control over whether he returned that, and Jason had never really expected it to be. There was a certain level of guardedness that was required in their kind of work. 

Yet, here he was, letting Jason see him completely relaxed. It was not Timothy sitting in front of Jason; it was Tim. Tim, who had made him laugh after long days of training and who gotten him greasy breakfast after he drank too much. It made Jason's heart pound in his chest, his doubts fading with each beat.

“Are you a vampire?” The teen asked, not looking up from his laptop.

“What?” 

“Are you a vampire? Are you physically prohibited from coming into my residence without my permission?” Jason too the hint and fully entered into the apartment, shutting the door behind him, then sitting himself on the other end of the couch. “I think I'm angry.” Jason's heart dropped as Timothy paused in his typing. “No, I know I am. I'm furious. That was the final straw.” He shut the laptop and turned to face Jason, a frown forming on his lips. “This isn't the first time that Black Mask has fucked with my business but he knew I operated out of that club, and now I can't. He's making moves on my back up locations as well. I know they are strategic locations, but I can't help but feel this is personal.” Jason kept back a sigh of relief, glad to know this anger was not directed at him. “Even if it isn't, and this is all just a coincidence, I don't like being screwed over.”

“Does this rant have anything to do with my plans for coming out as Red Hood?” Jason questioned slowly, feeling like he already knew the answer.

“I am not ranting, I am giving background. And yes, it does. You said you wanted to do something grand, to grab attention, but you haven't said what.”

“I haven't decided what.” And Jason hadn't. He thought of going after the Joker, but the man had gone silent since his escape from Arkham and it irked Jason. Nothing else seemed good enough. 

“I'd like to suggest something.” 

Jason listened to Timothy's plan, his eyes going wide behind his domino mask as the younger went on. It was extremely detailed and relied heavily on violence and would draw the attention of Batman quickly, but Jason was more than okay with that. He added his own twists and pulls, trying to not smile at the way Timothy's eyes lit up at the mention of a rocket launcher. Timothy did not want to just bring down Black Mask, he wanted revenge, and Jason was very willing to carry it out for him and to let it be known they were working together. 

They discussed each step well into the morning and Jason forgot why he had even come to the apartment until Timothy began to yawn and checked his watch.

“I need to get some rest..I have to meet a client at ten and it is bad form to be half asleep the whole time.”

Jason's heart twisted at the word 'client' and he wanted to be angry. He couldn't be, though, not with the way Timothy was giving him a sleepy smile. He recalled the teen's words; that dealing in information and sleeping with men for money were jobs that he enjoyed. But they were just that. Jobs, that many people would frown upon, but Jason would be a hypocrite to be angry and jealous over them. He had killed a man and planned to run a drug empire for his job. It wasn't who he was, though, and he understood that Timothy's jobs were not who he was, either. 

They were both young men out to protect their city and that is who they were at their core.

“I'll let you get to that, then. You need your beauty rest, you are starting to get bags under your eyes.” Jason teased as he stood up. Timothy reached out and grabbed at Jason's hand, his grip loose, but firm. 

“I wasn't dismissing you.” Timothy whispered as he pulled himself up, standing close enough that Jason's jacket brushed his sweater. “You can stay, if you'd like.” 

“Yeah?” Jason could feel the smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah,” The younger man repeated, leaning up so their lips were almost touching. “And when we wake up, we can start painting the town Red.” 

Jason wrapped his arm around Timothy's waist and pulled him so they were firmly pressed against each other. “Who said we are going to get any sleep?” 

Then Jason kissed him like he had wanted to all night; hard, and soft, and with all the emotion he had to give. 

And Tim returned it eagerly.


End file.
